


The Ravelled Sleeve

by alba17



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Knitting, M/M, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-17
Updated: 2012-05-17
Packaged: 2017-11-05 13:02:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/406649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alba17/pseuds/alba17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A yarn shop AU. <i>His fingers rested lightly on the skein of yarn, right next to Merlin’s and for a moment their fingers skimmed over the yarn in tandem, tantalizingly close but not quite touching. “I hear your designs are out of this world,” Gwaine murmured, looking at the many examples displayed around the shop.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ravelled Sleeve

**Author's Note:**

  * For [significantowl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/significantowl/gifts).



> Written as a fandom_stocking gift.

“So, you have more of this?” Merlin caressed the heathered purple yarn. It had glints of green and silver - beautiful and soft as kitten fur. It would look fantastic on the shelf next to the new mohair. The ladies would be lining up around the block for this one. Especially if he could get Gwaine to hang around for its introduction. For purely business purposes, naturally.

“For you, no problem.” Gwaine’s lips curled into a small grin and Merlin felt a little tingle up his spine as their eyes locked. This was the third time Gwaine had visited The Ravelled Sleeve with his line of organic, hand-dyed yarns and each time Merlin berated himself for not asking him out. He’d been so busy the last year getting the shop up and running, he’d barely had any time for a social life and in this line, one rarely met any men, much less ones that were available and _hot_. When Gwaine had first showed up at the shop, Merlin almost had a heart attack. He’d promised himself that this time he’d be brave and just go for it. His gaze caught on the V of bare chest visible between the luscious forest green scarf wrapped around Gwaine’s neck (brioche pattern) and the light blue button down shirt that hugged his torso. He forced his eyes upward before they could stray lower, otherwise he’d be a lost cause and well, he was at work after all.

“I could see it in an unstructured cardigan perhaps,” Gwaine said quietly, with a far-off expression, as if visualising the many ways the yarn could come to life. “You know, the kind that hangs loose in the front, perhaps some kind of interesting bias design.” His fingers rested lightly on the skein of yarn, right next to Merlin’s and for a moment their fingers skimmed over the yarn in tandem, tantalizingly close but not quite touching. “I hear your designs are out of this world,” Gwaine murmured, looking at the many examples displayed around the shop.

Merlin could feel his cheeks heat. “Thank you,” he managed to stammer out. He generally avoided the limelight, but his designs were one of the prime attractions of the shop and he was the owner, so by default he garnered a certain amount of attention. Sweaters, scarves and other unidentifiable knitted items hung from the ceiling and the shelves, forming a rainbow canopy, as if they were in an exotic tent in the middle of the desert. Merlin prided himself on creating a stimulating yet comfortable atmosphere so customers would linger and hang out, create a community.

Just as he was working himself up to ask Gwaine out for a coffee, perhaps under the guise of discussing designs for the new luscious yarn, someone tugged at his sleeve.

“Merlin!” Gwen said with a touch of exasperation.

“Oh. What?” Merlin reluctantly tore himself away from Gwaine’s handsome face.

“For god’s sake, I’ve been trying to get your attention for five minutes.” Gwen, his store manager and all-around right-hand woman, shot an annoyed look at Gwaine, to whose charms she was apparently immune. She tapped impatiently at her iPad. “The four o’clock Fair Isle class is all here. Is Morgana coming or what?”

Morgana wasn’t the most reliable teacher. If there was such a thing as a jet-setting knitting expert, she was it. Probably busy planning a photoshoot with Vogue Knitting (she modelled all her own designs). Before Merlin could respond, the lady in question sailed in, her minion Agravaine in tow, weighed down with shopping bags from an expensive market.

“Oh, thank god, there you are,” Gwen said. “I was beginning to worry.”

“Nonsense, darling, wouldn’t miss it. You know this is my absolute most favourite place in the entire world. Merlin, dear, how are you?” Morgana traded air kisses with Merlin and looked Gwaine over from head to toe before sending a smirk in Merlin’s direction. “Keeping busy, I see. Over there, Agravaine, and start setting up, if you please.” She gestured airily to the anteroom off the main part of the store, which was reserved for classes, and held out her voluminous handbag until Agravaine relieved her of its burden, struggling to balance his load before scurrying off. “I’ve always said what Merlin’s done with this place is nothing short of magical.” Her carmine smile displayed a row of precise white teeth as Morgana surveyed the scene. Merlin got the feeling she was taking detailed notes and totting it all up in some kind of fiendish internal calculator.

When Merlin had bought the shop, it was filled with low-end acrylic yarns in garish colours and ugly plastic knitting needles, patterns for crocheted afghans in primary colours and pastel baby blankets, staffed by helmet-haired suburban matrons. It even smelled like the 1970’s. In just a year, he’d updated it entirely, stocked it with expensive, natural fibres and his own designs which ranged from earthy peasant-girl to edgy wearable art. Now it was considered the premiere yarn shop in the area.

“Who is this?” Morgana eyed Gwaine with the intense focus of a hawk scanning for prey. Merlin couldn’t help edging slightly in front of Gwaine as if to protect him.

“This is Gwaine. He sells yarn,” Merlin said, feeling no need to elaborate.

Gwaine gave her a little wave. “Hello.”

Merlin knew he should talk up Gwaine’s yarn to Morgana, given her power in the industry, but for some strange reason he wanted to get her away as quickly as possible. Hopefully he could make it up to Gwaine later. “Don’t you need to,” Merlin made a hurry-up gesture with his hands,”get to your class?”

Morgana hesitated, giving the two of them a calculating look. “Well, if you’re in such a hurry to get rid of me...” Then she threw her head back in a peel of laughter that frankly, had a manic tinge. Sometimes Morgana was downright scary. “You’re right. Need to whip those Fair Isle students into shape.” She cupped a hand around her mouth. “Don’t tell them I said that,” she whispered.

 

In a lacy swirl of finely-worked Rowan Kidsilk Haze (Blood 627 - Merlin recognized the shade), Morgana waltzed into the anteroom and greeted her class. “Hello girls!” she called, while Agravaine began setting out the libations. “I’ve got mushroom pate, Merlot, and that’s a red pepper salmon mousse. That should get us started,” she said. “Maybe we can lure Merlin to join us later for white chocolate truffles,” directing her comment loudly back at Merlin. “Although it looks like he’s a bit busy at the moment.” She smirked before her attention drifted to the crackers Agravaine was spreading on a platter. “Agravaine, darling, I _told_ you, I wanted the cracked pepper. Honestly, I’m beginning to wonder about you. Now, ladies, do you all have the pattern?”

Merlin cleared his throat. “That’s, erm, Morgana,” he said to Gwaine. “I like to call her my nemesis because she can be a handful, but we’re lucky to get her.”

“Yes, I’ve seen her work. Lovely.”

Merlin sighed. “I promise to talk to her about your yarn later. She can be a bit...what’s the right word...”

“Predatory?”

“You got that, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Merlin, oh my god.” Gwen, who’d been quietly flicking her fingers across her iPad during this entire conversation, looked up from the device with a horrified expression. “The new Debbie Bliss is out tomorrow and I forgot to place our order!” She flapped her hands in the air frantically before rushing off to the back office, her phone already at her ear.

Merlin looked after her with a wave of fondness. He’d be nowhere without Gwen; she made the trains run on time, so to speak. Or, at least, kept the shelves filled with yarn.

“So. About this yarn.” Gwaine sidled in close so Merlin could feel his breath on his ear. He grew hot all over. “Perhaps we could discuss the possibilities over a pint.”

Merlin shivered just a tad as Gwaine’s hand brushed his hip. He could almost feel Gwaine’s chest pressing against his back as Gwaine leaned in behind him, leaving only the smallest of gaps between their bodies. “Er, I was thinking of coffee, but a pint would be great.”

“Will the place survive for awhile without you?”

“Don’t worry. Gwen has training in using knitting needles as weaponry if Morgana starts breathing fire.”

Gwaine laughed and went to pack up his stuff. “Don’t forget to bring some needles along. We might want to try out some things.”

Merlin practically swooned at the thought of Gwaine’s hands wrapped around knitting needles, the yarn sliding back and forth between them, warm and soft, as the stitches multiplied under his fingers. “Oh, don’t worry. I have the feeling knitting together will be quite inspirational.”


End file.
